Page 119 of Stolen for Keeps
Noah’s gaze flicked toward the window, where Sheriff Colton leaned against his cruiser, watching everything unfold.
Harlow straightened his jacket. “Law sure runs loose out here. In my town, threatening an officer would’ve been game over.”
Noah just looked at him, unimpressed. “Didn’t expect you to crack that fast. Guess they don’t build them tough where you’re from.”
“Good night,” Harlow said. But his eyes cut back to me. He couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t leave without taking one more swing. “Let’s keep this simple, Ms. Belrose. Where were you on the morning of September thirtieth, between five and seven?”
I met his stare, spine straight, mouth shut.
Let him wait.
Harlow shook his head as if he were disappointed but not surprised. “Guilty people don’t look afraid like you.”
That was the moment Noah moved. “She was with me,” he said in an iron voice.
“Oh?” Harlow mused. “All morning? Can anyone corroborate that?”
Noah took a step forward. “We’re done here,” he said, his voice dropping to something lethal. “Now get out.”
Harlow gave a smile, like he already had the outcome mapped out in his head. He stepped away, making it halfway to the door before pausing. Then, without looking back, he tossed one last parting shot over his shoulder. “Once a thief, always a thief.”
The diner, which had been buzzing with murmured conversation, went deathly still.
I felt the weight of their stares before I saw them.
Maggie, her lips pressed in a thin line. A couple at the counter, exchanging looks. The old rancher in the corner, shaking his head.
Even the scrape of a fork against a plate sounded loud.
I dropped my gaze, stared at the red leather of the booth, and traced the cracks with my eyes, willing myself not to react. Not to see the shift happening in real time.
And the small-town silence that said,we remember.
Noah’s arm came around my shoulders. “Come on, let’s go home.”
Across the street, Harlow lingered by the sheriff’s cruiser, watching and waiting.
Once we were inside Noah’s truck, I groaned. “Why did you do that?”
“Youwerewith me,” he insisted.
I tried to compute. Chances were, he had been with me. I just hated how he’d gotten involved now.
“Noah—” I bit down the rest, frustration braced tight against the fear starting to stir.
“Maya.”
My heart twisted. The decision to stay, to fight this, suddenly felt like a trap closing in.
“I’ll have to come clean,” I decided.
“No.” His voice was steel. “Not happening.”
“I don’t want to drag you into this. You already did it yourself, but I won’t let you go any further.”
“I’ll go as far as I have to.”
My breath hitched, and my head shook as a tear slipped down my cheek. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to?—”
